


Makoto Niijima Week 2019

by BlixaLooksCarsick



Series: Makoto Niijima Week 2019 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: MakotoNiijimaWeek2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-10-20 00:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlixaLooksCarsick/pseuds/BlixaLooksCarsick
Summary: Every week is Makoto Niijima week to me. She's truly become my favourite character in the Persona series. That said, creators all over the place get a chance to show our appreciation through a series of thematic prompts. And here's my contributions.Enjoy! And happy week!#MakotoNiijimaWeek2k19





	1. Day One: Books

**Author's Note:**

> Because of current obligations and a trip coming soon, most of my prompts will be late entries.
> 
> Just a heads up.

It seemed to be a Sunday like any other. Makoto Niijima woke up roughly twenty minutes later than on her normal schedule, which still was within the Niijima standards. This was the second indulgence she allowed herself every weekend; the first was a long-distance slumber party with her boyfriend through Skope before turning in. Their next get together was still months away, and his permanent return to Tokyo looked even further away. The wait was a sad thought manifest, which she learned to cope with by learning to live each day at a time, as fully as she could.

And the first item for the day was a jog before breakfast. Her sister Sae joined her sometimes, but the soon-to-be defence attorney pulled an all-nighter going through her old law books well into the earliest morning. Makoto imagined Sae would resume her studying once she had her morning coffee. But despite it all, the tangent of coffee still led to Akira. 

He looked rather tired the night before, Makoto thought. Was he sleeping and eating enough? Was he enjoying life in his hometown? Had his father and he talked things through? The questions continued to pile up, extending even to Morgana and his new life as a true cat. Makoto wondered if their feline companion might have some lingering anxieties given his state after Yaldabaoth’s defeat. She thought of calling Akira’s mother later, just to make sure everything was alright.

The young woman found herself so caught up in these meditations that she failed to notice the figure coming her way as she walked out into the street. She only marked her friend’s presence after awkwardly bumping into her, filling her face with a generous helping of blonde pigtail. 

“Whoa, watch it there, Makoto!” Ann Takamaki was dazed from the unexpected impact.

“I’m so sorry! Ann, are you alright?” She apologised, with a break of embarrassment in her voice.

“Yeah, yeah. That’ll teach me to come ask if you’d like to go for breakfast.” 

“I’m really sorry, I was a little distracted.” Makoto bowed frantically. “And yeah, I would like to go for breakfast, as long as you’ll let me pay.”

“Haha, because you were distracted? No way, I got paid yesterday. It’s gonna be my treat, Niijima.”

“Okay, but you’ll have to come jog with me, then.”

“I’m paying, and I’m also jogging? That doesn’t sound fair.”

“It’s not. Let’s go.” Though Makoto’s pace was easy, Ann still somehow lagged behind. The young woman wondered if Ann did any exercise at all whenever she accompanied Ryuji to the gym.

[ ]

It did not take them long to find a place for breakfast. Rather than visiting old favourites, they tried a small diner nearby. It looked fairly unassuming from the outside, and suitably minimalistic within. But the menu, though modest in options, looked appealing, and nothing was too pricey. There was little catching up to do as they waited, since the group met often, but there was also never shortage of things to talk about. The chat lasted long after they finished eating, and carried on as they indulged in a pastry with coffee each. 

“Hey, Ann. Do you mind me asking you a question?” Makoto asked.

“Shoot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I really appreciate this. But… why the surprise visit?”

“Oh. Well…” Ann hesitated. “I’ll tell if you promise you won’t get mad.”

“I can’t promise that. But I’ll try to be understanding.” 

“Okay, then. To be honest, you look like you kinda need it.”

“What do you mean?” Makoto was taken aback by her friend’s comment.

“When we all met for lunch the other day, you sorta looked a bit out of it. Not sure how to put it, it was like… um, tired maybe?”

“I see.” Makoto looked inward.

“I’m sorry, Makoto.”

“No, don’t be! You’re not wrong, really. Law school has both been what I expected, and not at the same time.” 

“I guess it has. Haru’s looked like that sometimes… Wait…” Ann suddenly went wide-eyed. “Are you actually struggling with school? Is Makoto Niijima actually struggling!?” 

“Hey, not so loud!”

“Oh God… Oh God, Oh God. Is college seriously that tough?” Ann began to panic a little. “Oh God, what am I gonna do after high school!?”

“N-no, it’s not… Hey, how about we pay and get some air?”

Makoto did not know whether Ann was playing around, or if her reaction was genuine. 

“I won’t lie to you, Ann. College can be very demanding. That’s the nature of things with academia.” Makoto explained. “It’s certainly a step up in difficulty from high school, as Futaba would say. But it’s also easier, in some other ways, and I’m positive you could pursue it successfully, if that’s what you chose to do after high-school. And keep one other thing in mind. Not all careers follow the same ways.”

“When you put it like that…” Ann pulled out her card to pay for breakfast, much to Makoto’s reluctance. “I guess it’s a less scary than it seemed. It’s still scary, though.”

“Sometimes, I feel that’s how it’s meant to be. It’s a challenge, but challenges are meant to be conquered.”

“They are, huh?” Ann’s eyes wandered off to a small stand with books by the entrance. There was something else she suspected to be responsible for Makoto’s mood, but she did not want to bring it up. After all, Ann also missed Akira, albeit not in the same way as Makoto did. Reassuring her friend about his return probably would not help, as it was something they already knew. It did not make the wait any easier to bear. However, seeing the book stand sparked an idea in Ann’s head. “Hey, I think I know something that may help you feel less tired.”

“Oh?”

“I think your nose has been buried in the same books for too long!”

“Uh… what?” Makoto blinked in confusion.

“Is that how the expression goes? Um, let me try it again…” Ann cleared her throat. “Makoto Niijima! You need to read some new books!”

“Okay.” The corners of her mouth curled into a playful smirk. “Colour me intrigued, Ann Takamaki. What do you have in mind?”

[ ]

The two went back out into the street with an enthusiastic spring in their step. Ann’s original idea was simply to take Makoto book-shopping. But as they continued to talk on it, the idea evolved into something else. Much like the great things in life, the concept was simple: go to a bookstore and buy books as gifts – but with a twist. Rather than picking one for themselves, they would pick a book for each other. Makoto’s love of reading made this a perfect idea, and even Ann swore she would commit to whatever her friend picked. 

And so, Makoto and Ann made their way to Jinbocho. A problem arose when they arrived, though. Their time to make the purchases was limited since the bookstore closed early on Sundays. Both of them knew they could well do this sometime in the week, but the pressure of time added a little thrill to it. Every second factored into the decision, and there was so much variety to choose from. In a way, it was like tackling a fearsome enemy on their own. 

“Ready, Ann?”

“Let’s go, Makoto!”

And quite like children in a candy store, the two young women ran each into a different narrow hallway, surrounded by countless volumes and the distinct, unique smell of the printed word. 

One hour to go.

[ ]

Ten minutes later, Makoto already held her pick for Ann beneath her arm. It caught her eye as soon as she saw it: a Japanese translation of _Emma_ by Jane Austen. It was not the academic, commentated version Makoto herself owned, which was a plus – she felt that sometimes the shadow of academia cast an unwelcoming flavour on otherwise great classics. And the translator seemed more than competent, judging by the pages she quickly went through.

Makoto had only read this book until after regaining control over her life since becoming a Phantom Thief. Then, the passing of the pages somewhat resembled what the passing of the days with the new friends she made. She saw a little of the characters in each and every one of them. And much like Emma Woodhouse’s belated epiphany, Makoto eventually saw something of herself in the book. Some things have no aged well, and the cultural divide can be a bulwark to cross, but this book contained that which united the greatest of books in a single thread: the ability to reach out and touch who reads them. 

Makoto wondered if _Emma_ would reach out and touch Ann as well. The young woman smiled with the conviction that it would. She may not be academically inclined, but Ann was far from unintelligent. Makoto was sure that the nuances of Austen’s writing, the humane depth of the characters, the portrayal of social concerns, and the workings of the comedy of manners would not go unappreciated. But all on its own, the book was a greatly enjoyable read. 

The young woman peeked at her friend, hard at search on the other pole of the bookstore. It seemed that she still had not made her mind on what to give Makoto. This gave the younger Niijima some time to muse a little more. She enjoyed this little adventure more than she thought she would. Money was not a luxury she had in abundance at the time, but she would be content with tightening her budget a little if she could do this with the rest of their friends. 

So, one by one, Makoto wondered what kind of book she would give Haru, Ryuji, Yusuke, Futaba, even Morgana. Akira and she gave each other books all the time, but she still entertained the idea of giving her boyfriend something out of what he was accustomed to read. The possibilities were endless, and most of them had her grin with mischievous mirth. 

[ ]

Twenty minutes later, the two walked out of the bookstore, each with a book wrapped in brown paper for secrecy. Though the temptation was great, they agreed to only open the books after they went each their own way later. Only then, did Makoto stop to truly wonder what Ann has picked for her. Curiosity was a tough opponent to contend with, but the young woman managed to resist its pull until she was finally in her room. 

Makoto unpackaged the book, taking special care to neatly fold the brown paper should she find another use for it. Then, with nothing else to distract her, she gave the book a proper eyeing. And for a moment, she did not know what to think. 

Until she finally burst out laughing, to the point of tears.

On her desk, behold _Sixty Nine Hues of Yukko, the Immortal Edition_, by K.Y. Marie. A book of romance, betrayal, espionage, leather-bound theft, sorcery… and vampires. If the book’s cover is to be believed, this work has won several awards for “Most Noteworthy Book”, a title which did not seem actually praising. Makoto could recall the name of this book, or something all too similar, mentioned in leisurely conversations in college, never in a positive light. 

She picked a page at random to savour the author’s prose, and only two paragraphs later, she wondered if an editor had even taken a passing look at the final draft, assuming this was not indeed the initial one. Something Makoto could certainly recognise is how quickly the reader gets splashed with varying thickness of subterfuge, sorcery and vampires, all with a dash of not-very-effective sensuality. In a way, this felt like an unchecked progression of the themes she knew from her shoujo manga collection, so concentrated that it fell sour on the palate. 

Makoto took a deep breath, and went over to the first page. She steeled herself for adventure into this strange, not very palatable world. And even though it was poorly constructed, and tragically underwhelming when compared to her favoured books, she approached it with no less spirit. Since the very moment Ann picked this book for her, Makoto swore she would read it from cover to cover, regardless of what it were.

And she was not about to break that oath.

A few chapters in, Makoto could barely contain her laughter, thus driving her reading speed to a crawl. Half of her suspected the author wrote this story this way deliberately. The other, bigger half doubted it. The young woman enjoyed it, nonetheless. And for some time, at least, the pressures of college, and the pain of distance bothered her none. 

[ ]

Ann Takamaki smiled wide when looking at the book Makoto picked for her. She fixed herself a cup of tea and spent her evening with _Emma_. Come late night, she had to stop reading to prepare her clothes from school and work the next day. But before turning in, she made sure to put Makoto’s gift in a special place in her room.

On a shelf by her bed, right next to an older edition of _Emma_, visibly worn from age and multiple readings. It made sense for the two editions to stand together, seeing as how one was a present from a dear friend, and another from her parents when she was twelve.


	2. Day Two: Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little life-defining moment from when Sae was still in high school, and Makoto was still a little bundle of justice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea for this one took a little too long to bloom. Sometimes it be like that.

Sae muted her phone, muffled its presence beneath her mattress for good measure. It was Saturday night, and half the world somehow expected her to be everywhere at once. By now, she gave up on the chance that her father would call to tell her he would not be coming home tonight. That was the one call she could look forward to, and instead she got countless from Mineta at school; she strongly believed giving him her contact information was the greatest mistake she has ever done. 

He seemed so harmless at the time. Sae saw no harm in accepting him as a friend when he approached her at school. But things soon started looking unpleasantly obvious when he started turning up at her part-time job. Now there seemingly was no escaping his advances. At the very least, he seemed to understand the notion of boundaries. But tonight, things were a little different.

He must have realised calling would get him nowhere, Sae thought, because the buzzing alert of incoming text messages followed. Somehow she could still hear them, anticipate them even before they were delivered. English exams were coming up, and she needed quiet; being at the top of her class did not mean that success came to her effortlessly. In the end, she compromised a little, and fished out her phone from under the mattress.

Sae was hardly surprised. There were a few texts from a couple of friends at school. A couple from people at work. She even had a few messages from a popular website that published writing by students. An overwhelming other half came from Mineta. 

“You’re really testing my patience, Mineta-kun.” Sae said to herself as she skimmed through the overused word cloud of his last thirty messages, all received within the last hour. Sae was knowledgeable on many things, but she still wondered if there was a guaranteed way to get through to somebody who does not understand the word ‘no’. Finally, she decided to raid her own word cloud for a preface, to then put it simply but firmly that she would not go out with him…

_ Because I’m taking care of my little sister. _

It was not actually a lie. Little Makoto had been feeling under the weather since she returned from the school trip. The fever had passed, and so had the coughing and the wheezing. But she still cradled her Buchi-kun around, which was a sign for both Sae and their father than the girl was not out of the woods yet. Needing to prepare for upcoming tests was a suitable reason to go compound that. 

Sae silently prayed that her sister would never have to deal with a guy like that.

Mineta’s reply was predictably quick. Sae was at a loss when reading it. In fact, for a moment she was not even sure she read it correctly. But it inexorably clicked that he actually said it.

_To hell with her. Go out with me. _

There was outrage over the sheer, obscene gall of one like Mineta. And then there was what Sae Niijima was experiencing at that moment. She was far beyond anger. And she now looked upon this boy, no longer a mere nuisance she regretted letting into her life, no different than the bottom of a trash bin. 

And she was no longer in the mood for studying.

With nothing else in mind to do, Sae felt she may well check up on her little sister. She expected her to be asleep at this hour. But as it turned out, Makoto was on the hallway, little footfalls against the carpeted floor, making their way towards big sister’s room. 

“Makoto! Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

“I’m bored.” The little girl said, stifling a yawn with her Buchimaru panda doll. “Dad’s not coming tonight, is he?”

“I don’t think he is. But do you know what that means?”

Makoto’s eyes lit up like lady bugs. 

“It means he’ll have to buy us breakfast!” Sae raised her arms in mock celebration, Makoto was unsure if that was all that she was looking forward to, but she awkwardly raised her arms as well. “And it also means we can stay up late.”

This time, little Makoto’s celebratory gesture was far more genuine. 

“This is between you and I, though. Okay?”

“It’ll be our secret.” The younger Niijima said. “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know. Do you wanna watch TV?”

“Okay.”

The two Niijima sisters sat on the couch in the living room and watched television for a short while. Both Sae and Makoto had different tastes, but it did not seem like anything appealing was on air for either of them. Makoto would likely fall asleep from sheer boredom before they came up on anything interesting. That would perhaps be useful for Sae, now that her mood was sweetened by spending time with her sister; she could get back to studying and Makoto would be none the wiser. But in truth, she did not really want that. Unfortunately, she was drawing a blank on what to do.

“Can we go to the gym downstairs?” The little girl asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Sae was taken aback.

“There’s nothing on TV.”

“Yeah, but…” Sae was hesitant about complying with her sister’s suggestion. She liked to stay in shape, but she did not favour any one routine exercise. Instead, she adhered to a basic warm up routine; everything else was putting her kickboxing knowledge into practice on the punching bag. Every now and then, she did some weight training, but she suspected that was not what Makoto wanted to see. “Alright. Only twenty minutes, though, okay?”

Makoto sprung up from the couch in enthusiastic response.

Sae and Makoto rode the elevator down to the ground floor. The gym was visible from the entrance to the building, and through it they could see vehicles passing, none of which looked to be their father’s car. The older sister sighed in resignation. There was no helping it – all she could do was try to have a good time with her sister, who she considered a better friend than anyone in high school. 

“Okay then. Let’s warm up.” 

Sae’s usual warm up was about ten minutes. This time, it was only five, but Makoto did more than simply mimic her sister’s movements. She put her own drive into everything she did, to the point that Sae had to put special attention so that Makoto would not injure herself from a sloppy movement. Nonetheless, Sae was quite impressed. That was only the first of several ways little Makoto surprised her that night.

Even at the tender age of 8, Makoto seemed resilient, and much stronger than a girl her age. Even though she was yawning earlier, she did not seem to slow down. And she barely struggled with the weight Sae picked for her. It seemed as though the agreed ‘twenty minutes’ would go on for a bit longer, perhaps twice so. But something on the corner of her eye sent a bitter taste into her palate. 

Sae turned to get a proper look at the entrance to the building, barely believing her eyes. The curse under her breath manifested into a low growl, which Makoto did not seem to notice.

Mineta.

“Sae?” Makoto asked, oblivious to why her sister suddenly went quiet. 

_ Don’t you dare come in here, you blight… _

As if, challenging her wishes, the young man made for the gym, walking with long strides and a self-assured demeanour. Though he could not be described as unpleasant to the eye, that night he became a loathsome sight for Sae. She would not have admitted it out loud, but she was more than willing to expel him from the premises herself. 

“Sae-chan!” Mineta saluted with mirthful tone. “Nice to see you here!”

“What do you want, Mineta-kun?” 

“Well, you never did reply to my message. I came to pick you up.”

“I never said I wanted to go out with you. Or go out at all.” Sae’s tone was dry, and vacant of all affability. Though her anger bubbled up, the last thing she wanted was to be a bad example for her little sister.

“But come on, it’s Saturday night. Really, what are you doing all cooped up in here?”

“What I’m doing is my business.”

“Oh, come on…” Mineta took a step forward, and the scene deteriorated instantly as soon as his right foot fell on a soft, small object he failed to notice.

“Buchi-kun.” Makoto’s little voice was barely audible. And for a moment, neither Sae nor Mineta knew what happened. The girl ran towards the young man and tried to rescue her Buchimaru doll, which she had sat on the border of the tatami as audience, from under Mineta’s foot.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” Mineta seemed to make no effort to lift his foot, as Makoto tried to pull the panda out.

“Watch your language in front of my sister.” Sae’s voice was cold and cutting as ice.

“I said I was sorry. I mean, what’s the difference, she’s gonna learn these words anyway! Well, whatever. Hurry up and get changed. We gotta go somewhere.”

“You’re a bad person!” Makoto yelled at him, having finally rescued Buchi-kun. Even though Mineta towered over her, she was not intimidated in the slightest.

“Oh, fuck off kid. Don’t you see I’m talking to...”

It took only one mild jab on the nose from Sae to get him to stop talking. She would have preferred if it made him quiet, which seemed to be a foreign development for Mineta, but his screaming and bleeding nose were an acceptable alternative. 

Sae loomed ominously over a whimpering Mineta. Her teeth exposed in a furious grimace.

“Mineta.” She purged the honorifics from his name. “So you show your true colours now. You approach me under the pretence of being a friend. You hound me at school and work, let alone you somehow finding my address without my knowledge or consent. All of this makes you more than a nuisance. It makes you a festering pustule I’d sooner get rid of without a second thought.”

The young man continued to pathetically deflate on the tatami. 

“But, in the moment you dismissed and insulted my sister, you became something else.” Sae forcefully pulled him up, and kicked him across the chest without giving him a chance to flinch. It was not the worst she could do, but it sufficed to make him hurt. “You became my enemy. Now, unless you want me to trample you underfoot, you’ll remove yourself from my presence, and my sister’s. Forever.”

“You’re crazy! All I wanted was…!” He struggled to speak.

“I know. Now leave. Or else…”

Whatever strength Mineta still had was funnelled whole into his exit. Sae would see him again at Shujin on Monday, but his presence would no longer cause her discomfort. That was a satisfaction she could savour at that moment, but the rush of it quickly wore off when she realised that Makoto watched this brief, but violent episode. 

Sae felt terrible. Though she condemned Mineta for posing a bad influence for Makoto, she realised she did not present a much better example herself. 

“Makoto…” Sae turned around. She felt so ashamed that she could not look at her little sister in the eye. “... I’m so sorry that you saw that. Please forgive me. It was wrong to…”

But when she finally did look at Makoto in the eye, all words faded suddenly. The little girl’s expression was of absolute surprise, but the look on her eyes gave that expression another sense. Makoto’s eyes were like two lady bugs, wide open and excited. Her little hands were closed into fists, vaguely positioned like a fighting stance.

Detective Akihiko Niijima arrived home the following morning with a generous breakfast to make up for not getting home last night. He was completely unaware of the unpleasant event that happened, but he did notice there was something different about his daughters.

The young man’s name was eventually forgotten by the two sisters. And it was just as well, since he was the memory’s most unimportant aspect. The moment itself stuck with Sae and Makoto as they grew older, shaping them in a peculiar, subconscious way. It was the beginning of a new bond between the two sisters, something private and hidden, reserved for the two of them only, and eventually for Makoto’s children. 

There is much to this bond that cannot be adequately expressed to an outsider. But there exists a fitting approximate. And it goes…

_ DO NOT MESS WITH A NIIJIMA. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any connection between a character in this fic and another from My Hero Academia is NOT a coincidence. 
> 
> *Viciously munches on grapes*


	3. Day Three: What If?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if we could observe a particularly remarkable time in Makoto Niijima's life from an outsider's perspective?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt Newspaper girl should have been a confidant herself. Here's hoping she'll have a more prominent role in Royal.

Izumi Sasahara knew her calling from early on. She valued herself an observer of events as they unfolded naturally, though most of her classmates deemed her a mere gossip devotee. The giggling behind her back was more than a modest inconvenience during her first months at Shujin. But through sheer grit and hard work, she found herself in just the place she wished for. Come sophomore year, she was the star researcher and interviewer for the school newspaper. Her road from this point forward looked straight and precise, like an arrow freed from the strain of the bowstring. 

And yet, she found there were truths she could not root out. She had no solid proof, but her sense assured her of dark events unfolding behind closed doors, on Professor Suguru Kamoshida, and even on Principal Kobayakawa. Izumi was not naïve; she hardly needed to test the waters to know what would happen if she attempted to dig deeper. 

So she compromised, and funnelled her work into everyday matters, into reporting what everybody knew but did not truly care about. It initially seemed as if safe mundaneness was all the year had in store for the budding journalist – until the transfer student came into the picture. Then, without expecting it, Izumi Sasahara found herself weeding out rumours from truth.

The talk surrounding Akira Kurusu painted a picture of infamy, a history of violence contained in a sixteen year old. It was as incredible as the fact that nearly everyone at Shujin seemed to believe every word of it. But although Izumi steered clear from him, it was clear to her that he was not who everyone thought, faculty included. In general, she noted that he was quite polite, as well as an above-average student.

As the weeks passed, his arrival seemed to herald uncanny events that rekindled her passion for journalism. Kamoshida’s truths were exposed, the school’s outcasts started to belong, and then there was the incursion of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts. Izumi was willing to consider that these developments were connected. But fascinating as the notion was, it always fell second to another peculiar event she began to closely observe.

The student council president, Makoto Niijima, was ever the reliable figure. Her and Izumi’s respective roles were clearly outlined, and at the same time occasionally overlapping. Despite their differing schedules, the cooperation between the student council and the school’s newspaper always yielded great results. This became Izumi’s first professional relationship. But even before the two became actual friends, the young journalist noticed something about Makoto Niijima.

Efficient and smart as she was, she had no passion anything she did. It was easier to imagine clockwork machinery beneath her chest than a beating heart. Makoto was always alone and tense, which made her look even less alive. Izumi never brought it up, but she felt bad for the student council president.

And one day, it all changed. The prim and proper walk of the student council president took the strangest turn. All of a sudden, Makoto Niijima had a different look in her eye; it was something Izumi recognised in herself, like a thirst for findings. She appeared to take cautious stock of her surroundings, and she stayed on the building’s second floor longer than she normally did, to the point of looking uncomfortable and anxious. But the most intriguing thing of all was that thick brown paper-wrapped package she held against her chest. The resulting sum was a thing as far removed from the student council president as it could get. 

The young journalist put the pieces together with ease. And though she reckoned it was none of her business, Izumi let her mind wander for a spell. 

_Did somebody catch Makoto-senpai’s eye?_

_If so, who could it possibly be?_

Izumi was well acquainted with many boys and girls in the second year classrooms; it was a thing that came with the craft. But no likely names came to mind. None but… possibly one. 

And soon after, the widest, silliest grin appeared on Izumi’s face. It was not a stretch of the imagination that Makoto Niijima would be able to see past the rumours on Akira Kurusu. But did she see even more? The prospect was an enticing little thing that made Izumi realise she was not wholly above the morsels that fed gossip. Still, whichever the truth to Makoto’s peculiar behaviour, Izumi shall not say a thing.

Then the infamous transfer student entered the scene, hounded from a distance by the murmurs of his peers, and Makoto’s reaction was immediate. She unwrapped the package, revealing it to be a thick manga, and instantly buried her nose in its pages – upside-down, if the cover was any indication. And during the brief lapse of time Akira was in the restroom, Makoto got into position, somewhere away from the transfer student’s line of vision, but not from Izumi’s. 

Once Akira was out of the rest room and down the stairs to the ground floor, Makoto began tailing him. Izumi could not believe her eyes. It was one thing to entertain the idea, and another to see it actually unfolding. The tasty prospects turned into questions.

_The student council president and the transfer student, together? Could that even work?_

It felt like coupling day and night, on first inspection. The difference was just too great. 

But then Izumi noted that, despite her position, Makoto Niijima was something of an outcast herself. Whereas most Shujin students would flock together before and after class, she always roamed on her own. She looked stoic and unmovable most of the time. But sometimes, a little sadness would peek out from behind the veil, somewhat like the students who befriended Akira Kurusu. Come to think of it, like Akira himself, she was also the recipient of some students’ hushed venom. Izumi knew better, despite them being little more than acquaintances.

She took the question home at the end of the day, and ruminated on it until night fell. Come the next day, as the student council president continued to follow the transfer student, the question became a hope. That her sense would prove right – that Akira Kurusu was indeed not a vicious delinquent, and that Makoto Niijima would maybe strike friendship with him. Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, and Yuuki Mishima – noted loners – seemed to feel comfortable around him, after all. 

Izumi went on to notice Makoto kept tailing Akira for several days afterwards. The dynamic did not seem to evolve, but it grew no less interesting as time went on. Every now and then, Izumi would provide commentary for only herself, and it was more heated that she would have cared to admit.

_I can’t believe he hasn’t noticed! Turn around, you fool!_

_Wait, maybe he has? I mean, Niijima-senpai, do you really think it’s not conspicuous at all?_

_Then, does that mean… is he just playing along? Oh no… Kurusu, how dare you!? _

_Makoto Niijima, how can you let this go on? Just grab him by the shoulder and talk to him! Make him listen!_

_Then, I don’t know… ask him out?_

_Yes! Yes, ask him out!_

_And you better say yes, Kurusu._

One day, the untold pursuit simply stopped, to her surprise. But days later, Makoto’s expression when next she saw her painted a worrisome picture in Izumi’s mind. Distress was painted all over her face, and her demeanour of efficiency and formality could barely disguise it. The impression clashed violently with Izumi’s train of thought. It was feasible that a heartbreak might affect the student council president like this, all things considered. 

But was that truly the issue? Izumi recalled Makoto Niijima had been looking into the activities of a number of students in Shibuya. As far as her own resources could tell, these students were being heavily pressured into performing jobs for unsavoury parties. All pointed to phishing scams, leading to extortion. And soon after, Akira Kurusu came to ask Izumi on the matter, but his questions were of a particularly inquisitive tone. Rather than being interested in some easy, profitable job, he seemed to be more concerned with learning the exact nature of these jobs. 

This contemplation put an entirely new picture in Izumi’s mind. It was something too big to grasp entirely, but she instinctively feared for the student council president, and for the transfer student as well. Never before would she hope, so terribly, that her sense was wrong. 

Izumi Sasahara never did know whether Makoto and Akira’s apparent inquiries had anything to do with it. But a few weeks later, the pressure that burdened the Shujin students was suddenly no more. In the end, it turned out that the Phantom Thieves of Hearts that exposed the crimes of Suguru Kamoshida and Ichiryusai Madarame claimed a third notch with Junya Kaneshiro, the man responsible for casting the shadow over Shujin. 

Izumi’s interest for the Phantom Thieves grew even more. But that could wait. For now, a more pressing concern was Niijima-senpai.

She no longer came down to the second floor as often as she did when tailing the transfer student, which was an indication that something happened, for good or ill. Izumi decided then to knock on the student council’s door for a matter unrelated to the school newspaper. She hoped she was not interrupting anything, but she would rather apologise than hesitate.

Inside, she found the president alone, going through a stack of papers. She looked up at Izumi with an air that was not there before. Gentle and patient, but more confident in a way Izumi could not describe.

“Hello. How can I help you, Sasahara-san?”

“Niijima-senpai, hello. I just came up here to ask you. Is everything alright? No, that’s not it at all… Are you well?”

“I am now.” 

Makoto’s smile did not belong to merely an honour student, or to the student council president. In fact, Izumi felt as if this was truly the first time she saw Niijima-senpai for the person she was. 

“I am glad to hear that, Niijima-senpai. I won’t be taking up more of your time. Thank you.” Her preoccupations assuaged, Izumi Sasahara bowed and made for the exit before the president could say or ask anything. 

There would be time for further conversation. For now, both surely had work to do. Izumi’s diligence never failed her, but her reflexes sometimes did, as she bumped straight into Akira Kurusu outside on the hall. 

“I’m sorry. Please excuse me.” He bowed politely, looking a little too apologetic for his initial reputation. 

Izumi waved it off without a word, too transfixed at the sight of the transfer student knocking on the student council’s door. She fought the temptation with all of her might, to crouch outside the door and listen in. Even though she was not working at the moment, she knew discretion was a fundamental of her craft. Only a true journalist could see the logic behind that apparent oxymoron. 

Regardless, she pictured Makoto’s face when the infamous transfer student - whom she had followed for little over a week - walked in. Would she grace him with that same smile? Izumi suspected so.

She figured it was contagious also, judging by how he looked at the student council president after that day. Akira Kurusu never seemed to smile before those strange days, when the dutiful Makoto Niijima hung on his trail, for whichever reason. 

Izumi returned to her duties as a budding journalist at full force, as the coming months put more and more on her plate. But every now and then, when catching a glimpse of Makoto’s eyes on him, or vice versa, she thought to herself.

_Ask her out already, Kurusu! She’ll say yes! She’ll say yes!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I wasn't sure this idea I had would be that fitting for this prompt, but it's short and sweet, and I love that it's the first thing I wrote to get back on the swing of things.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to PapesseJohanna and Melkechi for providing ideas. Look forward to their contributions for this week, and follow them on twitter dot com.


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